


The Soldier

by AnnieO



Category: G.I. Joe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:25:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieO/pseuds/AnnieO
Summary: Beach Head gives a welcome speech to a new batch of recruits





	The Soldier

The only sound in the auditorium was the scraping of chairs and the rustle of feet as the new recruits stood at rough attention. He surveyed them from his vantage at the front of the auditorium as he approached the podium, automatically noting the cocky looks that crossed many of the faces. _Damn kids_ , he thought to himself. _Cocky gets ya killed._  
  
“At ease!” His voiced echoed off the acoustic walls of the room. He waited as they all settled back into their seats, standing at parade rest in front of the podium. Years of shouting across parade grounds at more recruits than he cared to remember gave a power to his voice that drew instant attention and action.   
  
“So, you sorry lot think you got wha’ it takes to make it here?” His sharp eyes scanned the room, seeming to hit every solider sitting before him. He absently noted those who had the right look and those who didn’t. He had trained soldiers throughout his career in the Rangers and the Joes and he was mostly accurate in his predictions. Every so often one would prove him wrong one way or the other.  
  
His teammates thought him heartless and uncaring in his training regimes, but his kids knew their jobs when he was done, and even if he didn’t tell them… that made him damn proud. And it was a shot in the gut when one of his kids was taken out. Not that he’d ever let the recruits know. A drill Sergeant can’t let it get out that there were kinks in his armor.   
  
“When Ah was eighteen Ah saw my best friend blown into so many pieces we couldn’t even send them all home to his family. By th’ time Ah was twenty Ah had more buddies in th’ ground than a platoon has men alive.” He turned smartly to the left and marched three steps before turning back to parade rest. “By twenty-five Ah’d been in combat on four different continents and numerous countries. Ah had personally commanded several special op missions an’ had never lost a mark.” He turned sharply to his right and marched six steps before again hitting parade rest.   
  
“Now Ah know most of y’all are sitting there thinkin’ ya can do wha’ it takes to make it in this unit.” His eyes scanned the crowd, watching. “Ah’m here to tell ya most of y’all ain’t gonna do it. Ten of y’all will be gone by th’ end of th’ first week. Fifteen by th’ end of week two, and by th’ time Ah’m done with ya and you’re just barely ready to even step on th’ same ground as those that have already proven themselves, there’s gonna be less then ten of ya left standing.” He turned and marched back to center stage. “An’ out of you ten left, only one…that’s one, will last longer than a year. This is an elite unit an’ that means we only want th’ best, and th’ best is all that makes it.”   
  
He allowed his eyes to again scan the crowd, for several silent moments, gauging each one on a new level at this point in his speech. “As for th’ delusions all of ya have about bein’ a hero, forget them right now. There is no room here for any glory hounds. Th’ only real heroes you’ll find are at Arlington and they’re a little hard to talk to. This is a team.” He stressed the word. “This is not one person trying to prove how brave they think they are. That attitude only gets you two things… a trip home in a body bag, an’ a telegram telling your mama that ya ain’t comin’ home for Christmas.”   
  
He waited for the slight mummers that carried through the crowd to settle before continuing. “Do not expect respect from th’ veterans here. Most of them have seen more action than your minds can even comprehend. Respect is something you earn, it is not handed out.” He turned and marched six steps left. “If ya expect civvies to look up at you in awe then ya best just walk on outta that door right now. Do not expect them to cover you in glory; do not expect them to respect you as someone who has given up your life in defense of this country. Do not expect Uncle Sam to take care of you if you live long enough to retire. Th’ only thing ya can count on is a free funeral and most of country considering ya unworthy of breathing th’ same air as them.”  
  
He turned and again marched back to center stage. “That is th’ life of a soldier. It is not glory, it is not respect. It is a life of being on alert twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. It is a life where your teammates will kill and be killed for ya. So if ya don’t think ya got what it takes then th’ doors are that way.”  
  
He waited several moments and smiled to himself as none of those before him even made a motion to leave. “Well, Ah’m here to tell you that your ass belongs to me now.” He relaxed his parade rest and turned sharply on his right heel. “Parade grounds 0430, anyone late an’ it’s an extra ten miles. Dismissed!” 

  
* * * * *

He kicked the door closed behind him and tossed his keys and wallet on the kitchen table as he passed it. The house was quiet and he took solace in the absence of humans as he grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled on the couch in the living room. He leaned back and closed his eyes, willing the events of the day to the back of his mind until he went back to base at 0400. Cracking an eye, he glanced at the clock on the VCR. He had a few more minutes of solitude. He took a swig from the beer and put it down on the coaster sitting on the end table. He relaxed until he heard the familiar engine of the car pull up to the house. A smile came to his face as he then heard footsteps approaching the door and the rattle of keys in the lock.   
  
“Wayne?” A familiar voice called out, followed by the sound of the door being kicked shut. He pulled himself up off the couch and went to relieve his wife of her burden. “Hey soldier.” She smiled and kissed him. “How’d it go today?”  
  
“The usual bunch of kids. Ah’ll lay odds outta th’ thirty in that room today only two will go Joe.” He gently set the car seat down on the table and unlatched the buckles.   
  
His wife chuckled. “We all were kids at one point, ya know. Either that or you’re just getting old.” She pulled off her jacket and tossed it on the back of the nearest chair. “But I’m sure you put the fear of God in them just the same.” She leaned over and draped an arm around his shoulders, watching him. “You eat yet?”  
  
“No. Ah’ve only been home maybe fifteen minutes at th’ most.” He carefully lifted the groggy form into his arms and headed back towards the living room. Sitting down in the recliner after turning on a light, he slowly rocked back and forth to ease the baby’s waking. “Court, ya got a…” He let the question go unfinished when she held the bottle out to him.   
  
“Figured she’d be wanting dinner when she wakes up.” Courtney kneeled down and softly touched her daughter’s cheek. “What would the boys say if they saw you now?” She teased.  
  
Wayne glared at her. “Don’t even think about it.” His expression softened as he glanced back down at his daughter. “An’ you, no datin’ ‘til you’re thirty.”  
  
“Some soldier you are,” Courtney teased again as she headed back to the kitchen to figure out something for dinner.   
  
“Hear that Mikayla?” He smiled and held her close. “But Ah’m more than jus’ a soldier now.” In his arms, his daughter’s gurgling smile was all the answer he needed.


End file.
